Alliances (Star Wars: Thrawn, #2)(102)

“That it would,” Anakin agreed heavily, igniting the blade again. It looked, felt, and sounded exactly as it usually did. “So what we need to do is destroy all this”—he waved at the cortosis bin—“so they can’t make more of these super battle droids.”

“You could do that,” Thrawn agreed. “But there may be more of the material available that we have no access to.”

“There’s also a mine,” Padmé said. “That’s where they’re getting it.”

“Then we have to shut that down, too,” Anakin said impatiently. “So let’s get started.”

“A moment,” Thrawn said, his glowing eyes narrowed in thought. “Instead of attempting to shut down the factory, a better solution might be to let them waste their time and resources on a lethally flawed project.”

Anakin glanced at Padmé. She looked as puzzled as he felt. “And how do you propose we do that?”

“We have the assembly-line control system available to us,” Thrawn said, pointing to the control table. “We have your astromech droid. Why not reprogram the war droids for failure?”

“You mean leave some spots open so blaster bolts can get in?” Padmé asked. “Won’t they notice that?”

“I suggest something more subtle,” Thrawn said. “The mesh encompasses nearly all of the droid’s surface. We can merely extend it slightly by adding a few threads across the discharge capacitor within the blaster emission cylinders.”

Anakin frowned. And then he got it. “So that every time it fires, it’ll send a burst of energy of its own into the system?”

“Exactly,” Thrawn said. “If we also reroute some of the inner mesh threads to lie closer to the control processor…?”

“Then the more it fires, the faster it fries its own brain,” Padmé said, a cautious excitement creeping into her voice. “Only it’ll do it slowly enough that they won’t notice. It’ll look fine and pass all the tests.”

“And then five minutes into combat it’ll start falling apart,” Anakin said. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s plug Artoo in and see what he can do.”

Standard Republic protocol called for astromech droids to be memory-wiped after every mission, lest a Separatist capture offer the enemy a treasure trove of classified information. Anakin had routinely ignored that order, despite the trouble it had occasionally gotten him into with both the military leadership and the Jedi Council.

But as a result, R2-D2 still had all the stray bits and pieces of data and procedure that he’d picked up over the years. One of those bits of procedure involved factory architecture and graphic rewriting.

“Okay, he’s on it,” Anakin said as the droid warbled his confirmation. “Any other suggestions?”

“Only that he hurry,” Thrawn said, cocking his head. “My pilot’s diversionary attack has ended. They may return at any minute.”

“I thought you said you weren’t bringing your ship,” Anakin said, focusing on the sounds around them. Sure enough, the rhythmic thudding from earlier had stopped.

“I said I didn’t wish to arrive with it,” Thrawn reminded him. “We may need to create a diversion to permit Ambassador Padmé and the droid to complete their task.”

“LebJau said they did the cortosis sifting and sorting in the western end of the north wing,” Padmé said. “Then they took it to the eastern north wing, and here to the east wing.”

“They’re making unstoppable B2s here,” Anakin said. “Any idea what they’re making in the north wing?”

“He didn’t say. He probably doesn’t know.”

Anakin cocked an eyebrow at Thrawn. “You feel like finding out?”

“It would be as good a place as any for a diversion,” Thrawn said.

Anakin suppressed a grimace as he headed across the floor toward the wing’s northern door. With his real mission now completed, had the Chiss lost interest in what else the Separatists might be doing here?

It didn’t matter. Anakin still cared. More to the point, if Thrawn had really sent his ship away, their borrowed freighter was still the Chiss’s only way off Mokivj.

And he didn’t just need the freighter; he needed Anakin. The only reason for Thrawn to have a pilot was if he couldn’t fly a ship himself. Interested or not, he would still have to tag along.

“Fine,” Anakin said. “I’ll take point. Try to keep up.”



* * *



—

As Padmé had pointed out, the walls were at least partially immune to lightsabers. Fortunately, the door leading to the north wing wasn’t. As she watched from the control desk, Anakin carefully sliced through the lock and hinges. A wave of his hand, and the heavy panel floated back out of the doorway. Anakin and Thrawn stepped through, Anakin with his lightsaber ready, Thrawn with his lightning gun still slung over his back.

Padmé watched as they disappeared from view, her mind churning with mixed feelings. She was glad that Thrawn had come back, especially given that Anakin might well be dead if he hadn’t. But the fact that he’d apparently been perfectly willing to abandon them once he had what he needed still rankled.

Maybe that wasn’t unreasonable. Maybe in his place she would do the same.